Prince Of The Mitten Lyrics
[Intro]
Hey
Helluva made this beat, baby
Me and Stan just f*cked up AT&T
Me and Stan just f*cked up AT&T
Me and Stan just f*cked up AT&T
Me and Stan just f*cked up AT&T
Phew
(It's Lando, your bitch know, don't let your bitch go, nigga)
Hey
Hey, hey, ShittyBoyz
[Verse 1 - Jesus Shuttlesworth Beat]
Me and Stan ran it up off of EDD
Bitch'll never get a ring like CP3
Ain't no coffee in my cup, bitch, I'm drinking lean
Caught him broad day, easy breezy, I ain't need a beam
12 had to let me go, I told 'em I ain't see a thing
Yeezy fiend, closet stacked with Adidas sneaks
Trackhawks, Hellcats, shit look like Need for Speed
Best believe I'ma be the GOAT when I leavе the league
[Verse 2 - Dark Web Beat]
Punchеr next to me, made a hundred off the dark web
Doggy got that fake Bape, hundred for a shark head
T-shirt Chrome, tell the lil' bitch my heart dead
Vanilla this, vanilla that, the young Tron was giffy grabbing
Made his whole car stop, I f*cked around and 50 cal'ed it
Late night, you won't be talk, you something like Jimmy Fallon
Put that lil' f*cking gun down, my hitman really active
[Verse 3 - I'm Good Pt. 5 Beat]
Two titties, give your ass a hundred piece
Track.2s, walk around in thousand dollar running sneaks
Ksubi jeans looking tight 'cause it's a dub in these
2014, True Religions, belt double G's
So much ice on my neck, the bitches in the club gon' freeze
All the shit I seen up in my life'll make your stomach quease
Thinking shit sweet? Huh, come and see
Fell asleep and woke up confused, I done drunk a three
[Verse 4 - I Dog Hoes Beat]
I been dogging hoes since I was twelve, this shit ain't nothing new
Dog Shit Militia, up some pape' or we won't f*ck with you
Five thousand on the Cartiers, I got the buffest view
https://www.elyricsworld.com/prince_of_the_mitten_lyrics_babytron.html
f*ck around and dunk on yo ass if it's up with you
[Verse 5 - Hands On Beat]
If the chopstick jam, shit, I'm getting hands on
If yo pieces hitting, why you never put yo mans on?
Mm-hmm, cut it out, you a ham, bro
Thousand dollar coat, thousand dollar coffee cup
I got fifties, I got hunnids, lil' bitch, the joggy stuffed
Pendant after pendant, I'ma have Hutchie sauce me up
Touch a hair on me? Guarantee we sending doggy up
[Verse 6 - Legendary Beat]
Free Ri', what brodie did? That shit was legendary
Poured an eight in January, I was sleep till February
Pretty bitch, she look too nice but the head was scary
Three-five after three-five like it's necessary
[Verse 7 - Slipping Beat]
Five thousand dollar fit, I'm dressing excellent
I slide down, you the type be sending messages
Nah, for real, see him out, I bet we pressing him
I ain't road running, shit, I sent seven Mexicans
[Verse 8 - Whole Lotta Choppas Beat]
Whole lotta choppas at the spot, bitch, we like the army
I just hit a bitch off the buffs, say she like the Cartis
I can out-smoke Bob, bitch, I'm high as Marley
Chilling at the crib making pape', ain't the type to party
[Verse 9 - Rusty Beat]
Chopstick rusty, unky sliding with an old rifle
Sliding in a Striker, no registration, no title
